


Metanoia

by steelcrash



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Circle of Light (Transformers), Cybertron, F/M, Gen, Knights of Cybertron - Freeform, M/M, Mpreg, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Spark Bond, Sparklings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-26 03:31:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2636417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelcrash/pseuds/steelcrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After everything-the war, death, loss of faith in themselves and their cause, two mechs still find their way to one another. One a former Prime who has lost his way, and a future Prime who will help them both forge a new path.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Metanoia

Metanoia  
Chapter 1—Revelation  
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.   
(metanoia—the journey of changing one's mind, heart, self, or way of life. Found on other-wordly.tumblr.com) 

Kup's office door was open. Part of the open office policy adopted formerly by Autobot High Command at the behest of the former Optimus Prime. Except there was no more Autobot High Command, or Decepticons. Just a floundering High Council and a bunch of neutrals who didn't know a damn thing about governing themselves. 

He was back to training recruits (again) for the Enforcers, and occasionally lending his skills to investigations when he had something resembling free time. Free time was a valuable commodity for the ancient mech who refused to remove his Autobot symbol. Time to kill allowed him the freedom to think about absent friends, and that was a luxury he would not allow himself. Friends he didn't know if they were dead or alive. Like the captain of the ship the Lost Light and the aft-heads crazy enough to follow him, and a Prime who just walked away from them all. 

Kup exvented, setting aside the datapad in his hands. A report from Prowl detailing the unrest and protests in a newly rebuilt Iacon. The ancient mech rested his head in his hands. Cybertron was going to rip itself apart again, and no one could stop it if someone didn't make a stand. Something he did not want to consider at the moment, not with the commotion outside his office. 

Kup's head snapped up, and he watched an mech carrying a bundle in one arm shoulder past a small group of trainees and into his office. 

The mech looked familiar, but something was off. The colors were wrong—more white and grey, some yellow, and shade of orange he couldn't mistake for anyone else. Three swords, two short and one long poked over the mech's shoulders. The frame was also different, but the optics and the grin were the same. 

“Hot Rod?” Kup asked. 

“Rodimus, actually,” he said, stopping in front of Kup's desk.

“When did you get back?” Kup managed. 

“Last night,” he replied. 

“You've been gone a long time,” Kup said. “I was beginning to think. . .”

“A lot's happened,” Rodimus said. 

“Obviously,” Kup said, “Nice reformat. Where'd you get that done?”

“It's a minor detail,” Rodimus said. “I thought you'd be glad to see me.”

“I am,” Kup said, standing as Rodimus came around the corner of his desk. Kup was expecting a hug, but instead, Rodimus set the bundle in his arms into Kup's.

Raising an optic ridge, Kup pulled back a corner of the thermal blanket, and stared down into the face of a red, white and grey sparkling in recharge.

“Meet Firebolt,” Rodimus said, flashing a smile, and sitting down in Kup's chair. 

“He's yours?” Kup asked. 

“Who else would he belong to?” Rodimus said, putting his feet up on the desk. 

“Where in the Pit did you get a sparkling?” Kup said.

“How do you think?” Rodimus snapped, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms.

“Don't take offense, lad,” Kup said. 

“None taken,” Rodimus said. 

“Just what have you been up to in the time you've been gone?” Kup asked, taking a seat on the corner of the desk, trying not to jostle the mechling in his arms. 

“Oh, you know. . .stuff,” Rodimus said. 

Kup considered the fact Hot Rod was alone. With a sparkling, a new one at that. And noncommittal about answers. 

“Bolt's less than two Earth months old, if you were wondering,” Rodimus said. 

“I was,” Kup replied, feeling a tightening in his chest. His lad, all alone, with a new sparkling. What the hell happened out there?

“You were gone a long time,” he repeated.

“Not really, when you think about it,” Rodimus said, shrugging. 

“Long enough for things to go the Pit here,” Kup said. 

“Figures,” Rodimus muttered. “That's why we came back, actually.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Kup said. 

Another smile. “You could say that,” Rodimus said. “That and more.”

“So you found the Knights,” Kup said. 

As if the three blades sticking over his shoulders weren't enough of a giveaway.

“We did,” Rodimus said. “That's what took so long. I earned my Knighthood quite a while ago, but we stayed only long enough for Bolt to be presented to the circle and left not long after that.”

“Not a cult then?”

“Hardly,” Rodimus said with a snort. “They lost their way, as we had lost ours.”

“They ran away to avoid the war,” Kup said. 

“And by doing so, they preserved a part of our culture,” Rodimus said. “They also forgot what it was to have a ruling Prime, but Dai Atlas learned quickly enough.”

“What?”

“We might've broken a few things along the way. . .” Rodimus said. “Not like we meant to. Couldn't be helped, really, considering. . .”

“What are you talking about?” Kup asked. “And who's this 'we' you keep referring to? You and the kid?”

Rodimus frowned, but didn't retort.

“You've changed,” Kup said. 

“For the better, I hope,” Rodimus replied. “The past few years haven't been easy, but I wouldn't trade them for anything.”

“Even getting stuck to raise a sparkling on your own?”

Rodimus let the questions slide, standing, taking his sparkling back. 

“You need a place to stay?” Kup asked. “And I hope you know what you're getting into with a sparkling. It's not gonna be an easy road, lad, despite how cute he is now. And I hope he wasn't forced on you.”

“Bolt's emergence wasn't pleasant, but his kindling—I'll never forget,” Hot Rod said, hiding his smile by nuzzling the sparkling's helm. 

“The bitlet's sire isn't in the picture I take it?” Kup asked. 

“I never said he wasn't,” Rodimus said, looking away from Kup and at the mech standing in the doorway. He set the sparkling back in Kup's arms, and Kup stared as Rodimus met the other mech, and the bigger mech's battle mask retracted, and he pulled Rodimus in for a passionate kiss. 

A moment later, they broke apart and Optimus Prime's battle mask snapped back into place. 

Kup's jaw dropped, and he gaped like an Earth fish, glancing from mech to mech and to the sparkling in his arms. 

“We wanted to surprise you,” Rodimus said. 

“He's the bitlet's sire?”

“Yes, and we're bond mates,” Rodimus replied. 

“The two of you are bonded?” Kup squeaked out. 

Optimus wrapped an arm around the his mate's waist, pulling him close, placing another kiss to his audial.

“Rodimus would have no other,” Optimus said. “He waged a campaign I had no hope of winning.”

“I wouldn't give up on him when he'd given up on himself,” Rodimus said. “I think we saved each other.”

Kup stared down at the mechling in his arms with a new sense of wonder. Miracles did happen after all.


End file.
